Three Points Of Contact
Wisdom is the art of living in rhythm with your soul, your life, and the divine.
- John O’Donohue
When climbing a steep slope, scrambling over boulders, or as we did recently, a combination of both, it is important to remember to always keep three points of contact so as not to lose one’s balance. Falling in such a situation can lead to serious injury or worse. The same is true as we navigate the slopes and boulders and sometimes precarious trails that are our life.
Stay in touch with your soul, your true self.
Stay in touch with your life, the one that you are here to live in order to leave the world better because of you.
Stay in touch with the divine, that which is bigger than you, the presence the surrounds and supports and shelters you.
A Question Worth Answering
Today in another rich conversation with my spiritual director, the topic of things I want to make happen, work I want to step into, but haven’t, came up. Again.
After a thoughtful pause, he quietly posed a question. What has kept you from stepping into it up until now? Now that is a question worth answering.
What is something you have really wanted to do? But haven’t.
What is something you have really wanted to make happen? But haven’t?
What is something you have really wanted to bring to life? But haven’t?
What is something you have really wanted to accomplish? But haven’t?
What has kept you from stepping into it up until now?
Now that is a question worth answering.
For all of us.
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Grace
We are all in need of grace. Or at least I am. I seem to get things wrong as often as I get them right, and what keeps me going is the grace I receive over and over and over again. Sometimes, however, it is easy to forget that everyone else is in as much need of grace as I am, and yet the ones who need it the most are often the ones I want to extend it to the least. Which is why it is fast becoming one of my most necessary spiritual practices.
Grace is a choice, and the harder the choice, the greater the grace.
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Hidden Blessings
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
Hebrews 11:1
The last thing on her list was a patio off the back of her home. Hers is an old house from which she is writing a new chapter, and reflecting on her past and imagining her future would happen best in an outdoor sanctuary in her own back yard. It wouldn’t have to be big. Just enough room for outdoor furniture, some pots, a place to sip morning coffee and gather with friends for a glass of wine in the evening.
But the to-do list is long, the days for sitting out on a patio are growing shorter, and building one from the ground up would call upon already stretched resources of time, energy, and the help of others. As much as she yearned for a sacred outdoor space to call her own, looking out on her back yard she quietly let go and decided to be content with what she had, while never losing sight of what might be. If that isn’t faith, I don’t know what is.
Heading out into the back yard the next morning to dig up some weeds, her shovel hit something hard. A few shovels full of dirt later she discovered an old brick. Digging further, another one. And then another, and another, and another, until an old brick patio, buried under half a foot of sod, appeared. It had been there all along. Exactly what she had imagined and even better than what she’d hoped for, had she pushed to make a new patio happen she would have missed the blessing hidden right beneath her feet.
“Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” – Brene Brown
On A Dime
All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given us.
~ GandalfJ.R.R Tolkien: The Fellowship of the Ring
It is good to remember that our days are numbered. It is hard to be reminded of how quickly our number can be up. Let’s make our lives count.
It is good to remember that life is the currency given to us to spend as we choose. It is hard to be reminded that life can turn on a dime. Let’s spend our lives well.
Making Friends With It
Without trying to ruin your day, we’re all going die. From the moment we enter the world we are already on our way out, so the sooner we make friends with our own death, the sooner we can befriend the life that is ours to live.
Death is not the enemy. It is the unlived life that is.
My Own Medicine
As a writer, speaker, and coach, I help others connect who they are with how they live. It’s great work, and I love supporting people as they endeavor to live authentic, wholehearted lives. One of the things I find myself doing frequently in that process is encouraging them to trust that things will work out despite all evidence to the contrary.
The problem with my work is that in order to be authentic and wholehearted myself, I have to be willing to take a dose of my own medicine more often that I’d like to.
Take this morning for instance when the day before leaving on a bucket-list horse pack trip to celebrate our 25th anniversary, Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle decided to go into heat.
Things will work out.
Which meant that our well made plan to drop her off at her favorite boarding facility went out the window.
Things will work out.
Not many places will even take a dog in heat, not to mention that this is prime boarding time as people head out on vacation.
Things will work out.
At this late date, we stand to lose a substantial chunk of change if we have to cancel the trip.
It was getting harder to see how things would work out,
What to do?
At 10:30 in the morning there is only one thing to do. Make BLTs with extra bacon and extra mayo, split a beer, send up a short fervent prayer for help, and then start looking for other options. All the while trying to remember that things will work out despite all evidence to the contrary. Which they eventually did.
We just dropped Gracie off at her temporary digs. She will be alive and very happy to see us when we return, but it was hard work practicing what I preach. So for good measure we just stopped at Starbucks for grande mocha Frappuccinos. As it turns out, a spoonful of sugar really does help the medicine go down. Even my own.
Growing Up
We never stop growing up. At least I don’t. Even with 65 years behind me, I still encounter parts of myself, on an almost daily basis, that need to grow beyond lingering childish behaviors and ways of reacting to the world, and relating to the people around me. Especially to those who matter the most to me.
Growing up means not taking myself so seriously.
Growing up means seeing that I am but a small part in a very, very, very big picture.
Growing up means owning my life. All of it.
Growing up means learning that it’s not all about me. In fact, it’s hardly about me at all.
Growing up means leaving behind ways of responding to the world that might have kept me safe in the past, but that now keep me stuck in old patterns and habits.
Growing up means not getting what I want at the expense of others.
Growing up means not taking everything personally.
Growing up means letting go of the past and heading out into an unknown future.
Growing up means taking full ownership for myself and how I respond to the people in my life and the circumstances life brings my way.
Growing up means digging deep when I’d rather give up.
Growing up isn’t for the faint of heart, because in the end it means taking my own hand and stepping out onto the trail ahead.
This Not That
Some mornings we start our days with steel cut oats topped with fruit, almond milk, some nuts, and a little butter and brown sugar for good measure. Each ingredient adds to the whole, but can stand alone on its own. Even the butter. It’s delicious and we both love it. Tom however, chooses to ruin his by stirring it all up together into something I call “glop”. I love oatmeal. I hate glop. It is hard to distinguish one flavor from the other, and it’s not much to look at either.
Stick with me here, but a bowl of glop is a lot like how we can handle interpersonal challenges, especially in our long term relationships. We stir everything up together until it is almost impossible to tell one situation or issue from other ones.
Stirring everything together sounds something like this: You always… You never… This is just like when you… All the ingredients of the current issue get glopped together with a bunch of other ones, until every bite tastes the same, and it is nearly impossible to tell this from that.
Not stirring everything together sounds like this:This morning when you___ I felt… When you didn’t follow through on your commitment, this is how it impacted me. I want to talk to you about something that happened recently. Each issue or situation stands on its own.
Learning to take our issues one at a time and separate one from the other is one of the ways we grow up into the people we are meant to be (a lifelong process). It’s hard work. It means we have to take things as they come, deal with them as they come, and stay in the conversation about them. Some conversations are a one-and-done deal. Others come around again, and again, and again, each time an opportunity to show up more fully and with more personal accountability and ownership for our part of the bargain. And there is always a part of the bargain that is ours.
In my unhealthier moments, I can take a current issue, conflict, or challenging situation, and stir it up with a whole bunch of other ones from the past. Or take one thing and make it about everything. But as I choose to stop, sift through the emotions and particulars of the situation, I am learning to separate this from that, and bring this to the conversation, and leave that out.
Take it from me. It tastes really good.
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